


I Will Throw Myself on the Blade to Keep You Safe

by butsatisfactionbroughtitback



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Hatred, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butsatisfactionbroughtitback/pseuds/butsatisfactionbroughtitback
Summary: After the end of the world, or lack thereof, Crowley is faced with the choice to help Aziraphale but at the cost of their entire friendship. What does he do and how does he deal with the fallout? Well you can probably guess for yourself, but still read to find out!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short story that I've had stuck in my head.
> 
> I live in America, so I apologize for any mistakes due to my not understanding British life/culture and/or any mistakes of mine in general.

Two archangels materialized in the middle of Crowley’s flat without so much as a warning. Crowley jumped from where he had been sitting trimming an absolutely beautiful and absolutely terrified Calathea.

“Crowley.” Gabriel’s mouth quirked up in what might have passed for a smile if it wasn’t clear he wished he was much further away from the demon. Michael only gave a short nod.

“What do you lot want? Aren’t you supposed to be leaving us alone?” Crowley demanded slipping his sunglasses out of his pocket and placing them on his face.

“A decision has been reached regarding the angel Aziraphale.”

“He’s not here. I suggest you try his bookshop.”

“It concerns you.”

Crowley only gave a slight raise of his eyebrows. Gabriel continued,

“Heaven will be monitoring his actions over the next two centuries and, if satisfactory, he shall be returned full access to Heaven.”

“Just like that?”

“ _We_ believe in forgiveness. I’m sure your lot has never made any such offers.”

“ _Forgiveness_?” Crowley snorted,

 _They’re right though. I haven’t heard from Hell at all since the trial_ , he thought bitterly.

“Our hasty decision was a mistake on our part and we are working on making amends to Aziraphale.”

“Well I’m sure he’ll be delighted to know the angels who tried to destroy him are now going to welcome him back with open wings in two hundred years.”

“He cannot know about this until that time has passed.”

“And why in heavens not?”

“Because then his actions will be for a self-serving purpose by their very nature, and therefore disqualify him from being able to return.”

Crowley crossed his arms, “So, what’s that got to do with me?”

“Well, if he is to return to his full angelic status, he cannot spend any time around a demon and risk being influenced by it.”

“Oh, you are out of your mind if you think he’s gonna obey such a load of bollocks.”

“That’s why we are here. We need you to persuade him that you two should never be in contact again.”

“That’s awful deceptive behavior for angels.”

Gabriel shrugged, “Endeavoring to prevent a demon from potentially temping an angel seems pretty standard.”

“I won’t do that to him. So, you wankers can leave now.” He sat back down in front of his plant.

Gabriel sighed and rubbed his forehead. Michael spoke for the first time,

“Gabriel, give me a word alone with him, okay?”

Gabriel threw his hands up, “Fine.” And disappeared.

Michael walked to the table and miracled a chair across from Crowley. They sat down and looked at his plant.

“ _Calathea roseopicta_ a member of the prayer-plant family.”

“I just think the purple looks pretty.” He glanced at Michael, “How’s Andromeda doing?”

“Oh. Same old. Surprisingly similar to this galaxy. Circinius however, lots of exciting things going on with those creatures. Although it’s probably going to go supernova again sometime soon. Remember when Circinius was just a bunch of gas and carbon?”

“Mmhmm.” Crowley returned to his plant and Michael awkwardly glanced around the room before turning back.

“We miss you.”

“Shouldn’t have kicked me out then.”

“Actions have consequences. It is not for us to decide if they are fair or not.” They had the decency to look sad. Crowley stubbornly examined a leaf he knew was perfect.

“If you had the chance, wouldn’t you want to go back?”

“…yes.”

“Aziraphale has that chance.”

“You expect me to just make up something to drive us apart? We’ve known each other for six thousand years. I can’t do that to him.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“What difference does it make?”

“You are willing to deny him re-entrance to Heaven, just so you don’t have to ruin your friendship?”

“I’m a demon, aren’t I? Sounds exactly like something I’d do.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“What?”

“I know you care for him deeply, and I know that this will hurt you more than you’ve been hurt in a long time, but I have faith in you Crowley. I believe that you can do this _because_ of how much you care for him. You always cared too much for the wrong things.”

Crowley held Michael’s gaze before letting out a rush of air, slumping his shoulders.

“He’s all I have.”

Michael stood, “Answer yourself this: is your happiness more important than his?” then they were gone.

Crowley pushed the Calathea to the side and laid his head on his table.

 _No_.

He lifted his head and pulled out his cell phone.

 _No. My happiness will never outweigh Aziraphale’s_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like it! Will update when I get the chance in the next day or so.


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley stood across from the bookshop for an hour trying to summon up the courage to do what he had to do. He knew he would have to say something truly awful to get Aziraphale to back away from him. He wanted to throw up just thinking about it. He walked slowly across the street, opened the door, and stood inside. The bell tinkled softly, and he could hear Aziraphale approach.

“Crowley, how lovely to see you today!” Aziraphale beamed at him, “Would you like a cuppa?”

Crowley found himself rooted to the spot unable to do so much as breathe.

“My dear, is something wrong?” Aziraphale walked closer. Crowley snapped out of it,

“I’m done, Angel.”

Aziraphale tilted his head in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I have been trying to get you in bed now for six millennia and you still won’t take the hint! Satan’s sake, I even helped avert the apocalypse for you! Six thousand years for nothing. No. I’m done. I’m off to greener pastures!”

He watched a whole series of emotions cross Aziraphale’s face until it landed on determination. He walked over until he was facing directly in front of Crowley, “Is that so? Forgive me for not doing anything. If you have wanted to make love to me all this time I-”

Crowley recoiled, his back smacking against the door and stared at Aziraphale in shock as realization hit him like a train. What a cruel twist of fate to learn in that moment that maybe, just maybe, Aziraphale had also been harboring feelings that went far beyond fondness. And now Crowley had to take it and destroy it. It was almost… ineffable.

 _No. Impossible. Aziraphale would never reciprocate my feelings. Oh Satan, he’s lifting his hand towards me_.

He had to think fast. He did his best to sneer at Aziraphale,

“Make _love_? Absolutely not. _Fuck_ , angel. That’s all I’ve wanted out of you. Imagine the praise Beelzebub would heap on me if I screwed a heavenly host. That’s why I’ve forced myself to be _nice_ all of this time.

Aziraphale froze with his hand caught in midair. Crowley watched the hurt spread across Aziraphale’s face and wished he still had that canister of holy water to douse himself with. He turned back to the door and said what he knew would be the final nail in the proverbial coffin,

“Besides, even if you haven’t fallen, it’s not like Heaven’s talking to you anymore. You’re pretty much useless for anything now.”

Crowley walked out and forced himself to continue until he reached his flat. He entered and stared around the place knowing he couldn’t stay. He walked to the table where the Calathea still stood and looked down at it. He picked it up and threw it against the wall with an anguished scream. He smashed a hole through his table with a fist and kicked his chair across the room. He continued rampaging around breaking everything he could get his hands on. He stopped when his phone rang and stared daggers at it. The answering machine began recording,

“Crowley… It’s me… Aziraphale… Can… Can we talk? I’m… I’m sorry I-” The machine exploded as tears streamed down Crowley’s face. He could feel his pocket buzz and he snapped his fingers, disabling his answering machine and shutting it off in one move. Then sent it flying out the window for good measure. He forced himself to bury whatever blessed feelings that were trying to escape out of his eyes and fists and started to make a plan.

He looked around the destroyed flat, knowing that Aziraphale, the tenacious bastard, would show up. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even next month, but eventually he would come looking. He miracled the entire contents of his place onto Pluto and healed the fist-sized holes in his walls. He miracled his passport into his hand and watched as the letters wiggled and transformed themselves: Andrew Gavin Crowley. He walked out to his Bentley and drove to Heathrow Airport before also sending it to Pluto. He found himself on a plane putting more and more distance between him and a certain bookshop. He glanced over at a baby staring down at a tablet and miracled it to stop working, causing the baby to cry, and leaned back in his seat trying to think about nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I was mostly satisfied with how this chapter turned out and figured I'd post it now rather than later. More to follow soon!


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley found himself in a penthouse apartment overlooking Times Square. He was drawn to it because there was always activity and mischief to get into at any time of day. Although he hadn’t really done any temptations in all the time he’d been there, aside from maybe a downed subway line here, or a broken tourist bus there. Instead, Crowley spent most of his time staring at his giant television day and night. He attempted to sleep for at least a few decades, but like a curse, he rarely even slept through one night. Normally he would lie there and miss Aziraphale and also hate himself for putting such a look of pain on his angel’s face. He hoped Aziraphale was able to continue his life in his little shop that never sold books and perform small miracles to make others happy.

One evening after a day spent mostly sulking in his penthouse, Crowley stood at his window and looked up at the flurries of snow falling onto the city. He closed his eyes,

_Okay Michael, or God. Or whoever’s there right now. I did it. Not a day goes by that I wish I didn’t do it, but I did it. Are you happy now? Does that satisfy your bloody plan? Is he gonna be allowed back into Heaven? Was this worth it?_

“Was it?” He spoke aloud opening his eyes and feeling very alone in his apartment in a city of millions.

There was no response. The snow continued falling.

Crowley decided he was on the verge of going stir crazy and the next day changed his appearance to look around eighteen years old and proceeded to enroll at the university. He browsed through the course catalogue and decided to double major in Literature and History. For the most part, he found college life easy. He ignored the excited talk about parties and Greek life that almost everyone around him was interested in and instead spent his time sitting in the back of lecture halls pouring over whatever texts, novels, and interviews the professor had recommended for the class.

 _Aziraphale has thoroughly educated me on the merits of understanding and interpreting literature; however,_ _I thought history would be easier but there’s a startling number of events which apparently transpired without our noticing_.

He completed the degrees and continued to a graduate, and then a doctoral program. He successfully defended his thesis, _Of Course Shakespeare Wrote His Plays Are You Daft? Why Would Someone Hide the Fact They Wrote Them?_ , and jumped at the opportunity to become one of the youngest professors at his university.

_Funny enough, I’m actually the oldest professor at this university._

At the moment, he was pacing nervously as he packed for his fellowship. It would be his second to last semester working for his alma mater before he would leave to pursue other ventures. While he had not minded changing his appearance to be much younger, he was not thrilled with the prospect of making his body look older.

_Besides, I think I’d like to teach at a lower level. Kids can be quite charming. Sometimes._

He was not nervous about the fellowship itself, but rather that the university had selected King’s College London for him to work. Thirty years had passed since he’d been in London. And now he was going to be there for a full semester teaching about Twentieth Century Literature from Mexico to South America. He stuffed some lecture plans into his carry-on bag and told himself he was being foolish and paranoid and it was ridiculous to think that the moment he stepped foot in London, everyone would immediately recognize him and converge on him drilling him with questions.

As it turned out, he was busy enough with his students that nothing happened until well into the second half of the semester. That is until one morning when he was grading a student’s essay detailing how in the novel _Pedro P_ _áramo_ , Comala is actually Hell, and the characters were trapped there thanks to the actions of Pedro and Susanna San Juan. He looked up at the man standing in his doorway. He nodded at Crowley,

“Anthony J. Crowley.”

Crowley sat up straighter, “Nobody’s called me that since-”

“Since you changed it and moved to New York.”

Crowley stared, “Adam? Is that you?”

He nodded, “Your sunglasses are orange tinted now.”

“Er. Yes. Hides the yellow pretty well in my opinion. How did you know I’d be here?”

He shrugged, “Just a feeling.”

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay. I’d ask the same, but we both know the answer.”

Crowley wondered if this kid had always been this unnerving, and he just didn’t notice because of the whole world ending nonsense that was also going on.

“Do… Do you keep in touch with…?”

“Yes.”

“…how is he?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“I can’t. He wouldn’t want to see me even if I could.”

“Why is that?”

“I… it’s complicated.”

Adam frowned, “Well you’ll have to check up on him yourself if you want any answers.”

Crowley nodded. Then shifted, “How old are you now?”

“As old as I want to be.”

“Ah. Alright then.”

_This is why I never had any friends other than Aziraphale. I'm pretty awful at conversations with people. Well, that and the human lifespan is pretty tiny compared to that of an immortal hell spawn..._

“Why did you choose now to return?” Adam interrupted his brooding.

“This is where my fellowship was assigned.”

“You could have said no.”

“No, I couldn’t… well I guess I could have… but it was a rare opportunity… and I… uh… I… I really don’t know.”

“Seems like the universe wanted you here now. Best listen to it.”

And that is how he found himself that evening standing across from A. Z. Fell and Co. bookshop clutching an autographed first edition, plus the English translation, of _The Alchemist_ and staring. He miracled some bubble wrap around each book and slowly made his way to the door. He glanced in the window and his heart ached at the familiar sight of books piled high on nearly every surface. He could see shadows moving in the back and quickly, but gently, slid the books through the mail slot. A vision of Gabriel’s face popped into his head unbidden and he panicked thinking about how he would react if Aziraphale were to be caught fraternizing with a demon again, and miracled himself to the other side of London before the second book hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost halfway there! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While it is helpful to have read Paulo Coelho's novel _The Alchemist_ , I don't believe it's necessary in order to understand this chapter. The novel's Wikipedia entry and some Goodreads quotes are definitely helpful too. Also, the novel is (in my opinion) very good so if you're interested in reading it, please do!

It was a month later as he was wrapping up his lecture when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

 _He’s here_.

He glanced around the sea of faces,

“So, Paulo Coelho’s publishing company informed him that although _The Alchemist_ sold ‘well’ in its first year, they were still giving him back his rights. Which isn’t the best thing to hear from your publishing company so, much like Jesus, he took a forty-day excursion to the Mojave Desert to deal with the pain. He returned convinced that he had written not just a good book, but a great one and continued to promote his book until eventually it became an international best seller. I want you to keep that in mind when analyzing this text and also in your own lives. Be proud of your work. Know your worth even if others tell you it’s not good enough. Always advocate for yourself because you can’t be certain if anyone else will. It’s easy to get frustrated when you haven’t reached a certain milestone or deadline by the time you believe you should have, but that doesn’t mean you will never reach it. Have any of you heard of the Grimm’s Fairy tale of the shepherd boy, the bird, and the diamond mountain? Ah, never mind, I needn’t regale you with that story. It’s not really relevant now that I think of it. Anyways, sorry for my ramblings. That’s all for today. See you next time.”

The class slowly shuffled out as Crowley remained standing behind his podium and fiddling with the novel in his hands. He didn’t look up as he felt someone approaching.

“Doctor Andrew G. Crowley.”

That voice. It was like being stabbed in the chest. He still didn’t look up.

“I’ll admit, I was entirely baffled by two books appearing in my shop out of nowhere. No note or explanation included. It took quite a bit of Googling to discover that it was part of the curriculum of a course taught by a Dr. Crowley.”

His voice was cool and clipped. Crowley had only ever heard that tone used once when Aziraphale was trying to get rid of a customer that wouldn’t stop trying to buy his Lord Byron collection.

“I must say, I’m rather disappointed in your cowardly behavior. Three decades and you just run away into the night?”

“I run. It’s what I do.” Crowley muttered into the podium.

“And you made me have to look you up and see how successful you’ve been in the meantime. You’re now a professor of literature! _Literature_! And you give me _The Alchemist_ of all books. What a wily creature you are indeed!” His voice had risen, and Crowley continued leaning on the podium, lest his legs give out.

“Crowley look at me.”

Crowley’s head shifted up and he looked at Aziraphale for the first time since _that_ time. Aziraphale looked almost the same as he’d always looked except for the bitter expression he was leveling at Crowley. Crowley felt very small in that moment,

_I didn’t mean to taunt you with the book. It just sort of spoke to me. Or maybe I thought it said the things I couldn’t._

He struggled to keep his expression neutral. He blinked slowly, “Do you not want it?”

Aziraphale paused chewing on his lower lip, “Well, no… I do. It’s a classic after all…” he trailed off.

Crowley felt trapped. He hoped nobody in Heaven was seeing this and deciding this blew Aziraphale’s shot.

“So… if that’s all…” Crowley backed away a few steps.

“‘If that’s all’?!” His eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead.

Crowley had never witnessed Aziraphale this upset.

“How could you do that to me?!” Aziraphale demanded. Crowley knew he wasn’t talking about _The Alchemist_ ,

“I… I believed everything. All the lies. I believed them. I… I loved you Crowley. I loved you more than any other being. I knew I wasn’t supposed to, but I did. You’re a demon after all and demons don’t love, but I thought our friendship at least was special. And I meant nothing to you?”

Okay, this hurt worse than the time he thought Aziraphale was dead.

_They weren’t lies. You mean everything to me. You shouldn’t love me anyways. I don’t deserve it. But you. You deserve everything the universe can offer. That’s why I had to do it. When it comes down to me or you, I will throw myself on the blade to keep you safe every time._

He hoped his sunglasses were dark enough to hide the growing dampness of his eyes.

“Please.” Crowley’s voice was at a whisper, “Please don’t make me do this.”

Red had crept up Aziraphale’s neck and stood out on his cheeks. He narrowed his eyes, “The worst is, I think I still love you.”

He walked away. He stopped at the door but didn’t turn, “I should have smote you in Eden.”

“You should have.” Crowley whispered to the empty room. He wondered how his heart could still be beating after only becoming more and more broken over the years.

He finished the semester and returned to New York feeling very similar to the last time he left London. He snapped his fingers at his TV, but nothing happened. He snapped them again. Still nothing. He snarled and concentrated very hard on the TV before snapping again. After a moment, it flicked on featuring a news report on NASA’s future space exploration plans. He grabbed the first bottle of alcohol he could reach and sprawled out on the couch staring at his hand.

 _Now I’m losing power too? Wonderful_.


	5. Chapter 5

It was on that same couch twenty-seven years later that Crowley was jerked awake by a resounding boom that shook the building and sent items toppling off his shelves.

_What in the nine realms?_

He stumbled to the light switch, but found the electricity wasn’t working. He rushed to the window and looked out. He could hear people screaming from every direction and in the distance, flames were roaring up into the night sky. Not just any flames. Crowley recognized the blaze of hellfire. He ran out of his apartment and to the stairwell.

_Satan or someone please help me tonight!_

He snapped his fingers and transformed the stairwell into a twisting, but medium speed, slide and slid down the fifty stories. He exited and started running against the flow of people and straight towards the flames. He arrived gasping for breath at Bryant Park. Or what remained of Bryant Park, considering it currently resembled a barbeque gone terribly wrong. He ran into the New York Public Library searching for any security guards or janitors who may have had the night shift. Finding no one, he stopped and stared at the books around him rapidly turning into ash and suddenly he was back in a bookshop screaming for his best friend.

_Former best friend._

The exhibition that appeared to be at the heart of the blaze featured texts and iconography from multiple religions around the world. Ideal targets for a demonic attack. Crowley had the sudden urge to just sit down in the middle of the room and never get up. He shook his head and looked sadly at the pages fluttering past before exiting the Library. He did a double take at the angel who appeared in front of him at the foot of the front steps.

“Crowley! I should have known you were behind this.” Aziraphale's fists were clenched at his sides and in that moment he truly looked like a righteous angel of the Almighty.

“Me??? Do this?? It’s a good day if I can even miracle a new set of clothes on! Never mind summon massive amounts of hellfire! And why would I burn a library of all things? I have a PhD in literature! And what are you even doing here? You live in London!” The questions toppled over each other as they flew from his mouth.

“It’s the New York Public Library! I couldn’t just sit there and watch it burn on the telly!”

“So you had to miracle yourself across the Atlantic Ocean and watch it burn in front of you??”

Aziraphale ran a distressed hand through his hair. He opened his mouth to say something. Crowley caught a bright flash of orange out of the corner of his eye and suddenly flames engulfed his entire field of vision. He jumped out of them and landed in a heap next to Aziraphale. He looked over and met Aziraphale’s startled eyes but barely had enough time to feel relief that Aziraphale somehow managed to avoid getting singed by the hellfire before a familiar voice shouted,

“It’s open season Crowley!”

“HASTUR, YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Crowley got up and began chasing him down a side street until he stopped in his tracks as Hastur joined up with about a dozen other demons and faced him. Crowley snapped his fingers but found himself still about to be discorporated by his former coworkers.

 _Well shit_.

He turned and took off. The demons chased after him yelling and taunting him. He weaved between buildings until he found himself in a dead-end alleyway. He jumped and caught a fire escape and climbed to the roof as the demons scrambled up the ladder behind him. He sprinted across the rooftop and leapt to the next building, rolling upon impact. He glanced around and saw a rooftop door. He tugged on it as the demons started hopping onto the roof. He almost ripped the door off its hinges and dashed inside. He hid behind a large object as he heard the demons swearing,

“Ouch!” “Fuck!” “Keep going!” “It’s not worth it!” “Shut up!” “He can’t get very far at this rate!”

Crowley hurried down a narrow set of stairs and stopped in shock as he recognized the layout of the building. He looked down at his feet and noted that he was, indeed, standing inside of a church.

_A Catholic Church no less if the giant Crucifix above my head is of any indication._

He sprinted over to the baptismal fountain and stood behind it waiting for the demons to arrive. They appeared hopping from foot to foot and swearing.

_God, please let my suspicion be right._

He gave them a broad smile that was mostly teeth, “You’re playing my game now!”

He smacked his hand into the font and sent a wave of holy water splashing toward them. They screamed and scurried backward. A couple of the frontmost ones cried out as smoke began billowing from them and they dissolved into nasty puddles. Crowley looked down at his sopping wet sleeve, threw his head back, and laughed. He looked back at them meeting Hastur’s frightened eyes,

“Run.”

They ran.

Crowley remained standing there idly running his fingers through the holy water. He sniffed his hand,

_Yep, that’s the real deal. What does this mean?_

He looked up at the peaked ceiling, “Are you trying to tell me something?”

He wandered back outside and noted that while the air still smelled of smoke, the flames at least seemed to be extinguished.

_Perhaps by some angelic miracle._

He returned to his apartment and summoned enough energy to restore the stairs to normal. He was confused about everything, but thinking about it just gave him a headache. He crawled into bed instead.


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley wouldn’t have to wait another couple of decades before coming face to face with Aziraphale again. In fact, it was only eight hours and forty-one minutes later that Crowley was woken up by a persistent knocking.

_Why can’t I just be left alone to suffer?_

He put on his sunglasses and dragged himself to the door,

“What do you-?” He stopped at the sight of Aziraphale,

“Look, I didn’t set fire to-”

“I didn’t burn.” Aziraphale interrupted.

“What?”

“That demon sent hellfire at the both of us. But I didn’t burn.”

Crowley looked up and down the hall before ushering Aziraphale in. They sat on opposite ends of the couch lit only by the morning sun streaming through the window.

“So, what you’re saying is that you’ve ‘gone native’?”

Aziraphale looked slightly amused, “It would seem so.”

Crowley pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before blurting out, “I stuck my arm in holy water.”

Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to look shocked, “Pure holy water?”

Crowley nodded, “Straight from a baptismal font. Did quite a number on a couple of other demons.”

He looked relieved, then confused, “What does this mean?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing. I had figured there was a good chance it would kill me in the first place and I wouldn’t have to deal with these questions, yet here I am.”

“That’s not a joking matter my d-” he cut himself short and they both looked down.

“Um… Would you care for some tea?”

Aziraphale nodded.

Crowley stood and made his way to the kitchen. He pulled out a match and lit his stove before placing the kettle over the flame. He glanced back at Aziraphale who was looking through the books scattered across his coffee table. By the time he returned with two mugs, Aziraphale had a book in his lap and was reading the notes Crowley scribbled in the margins. He set the mug down on a coaster in front of Aziraphale before resuming his position on the couch.

“ _The Hobbit_ , what a classic.” Aziraphale stroked the pages fondly.

“My students are doing a comparison between the novel and the film series. Although the main thing they’ve taken away from it is that the films were an unnecessary cash grab. Actually, I’m pretty sure one of my lot who really resented New Zealand had a hand in the whole production. But, it turns out a lot of the kids prefer The Lord of the Rings films anyways.”

“I knew Sir Ian McKellen. Lovely fellow.”

They sipped their tea and Crowley attempted to surreptitiously stare at Aziraphale from the corner of his eye as he continued leafing through the book. Aziraphale looked up at him and smiled before his eyes widened and he quickly looked back down pressing his lips together in a frown.

_Say something idiot._

"Did you know Constantinople was renamed to Istanbul in 1930 AD?”

_Not that!_

“Wait, what?” Aziraphale looked back at him with surprise.

“Sometime after the Ottoman Empire captured Turkey, the Turks renamed it Istanbul.”

“Why’d they change it?”

“I dunno.”

“Hmm 1930… I think I was preoccupied observing Gandhi and the Indian Independence Movement at the time. What were you doing?”

“If I recall right, I was finishing up in the states with this lawyer, John Hoover. The chap was really ambitious and I, of course, encouraged him to go for his dreams.”

“Oh dear. It is a big world.”

“And an even bigger universe. Yet we’ve still managed to run into each other rather frequently... Speaking of which, how did you find me?”

“You ran off to confront that demon and you never returned. I was worried. I was also still trying to figure out how I was alive. I prayed to find you and it brought me here.”

“You just prayed to find me? And it worked? Wow.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Divine intervention I suppose.”

Crowley rolled his eyes but before he could scoff, his television turned on despite the electricity still being out. A video started to play. It appeared to be a vertical cell phone capture of Crowley. His hair was shorter, and his glasses were round and black. One hand was holding the phone while the other fiddled with a purple and green leaf.

“Crowley, what’s that?” Aziraphale looked in confusion between the two Crowleys.

An orange pair of sunglasses went flying and shattered against the wall, “Fuck!”

They stared transfixed at the television. The Crowley on the TV began to speak,

“Aziraphale… Aziraphale if you’re watching this… well I don’t know how you’re doing it but… I’m… I’m sorry. Gabriel and Michael… they… they said you’d be let back into Heaven or something in two hundred years, but only if you behaved well and I disappeared from your life. I can’t… I can’t tell you this or else that will break their arbitrary rules or something and you’ll never get to go back. I… I-I have to do something to make you never see me again.

He threw the leaf aside and removed his glasses swiping at his eyes.

“I’ll never get to tell you this, but I love you. I love you so much. I’ve always loved you. And I have to hurt you so deeply… I have to, I’m sorry. You should be allowed back with your kind. You deserve it. I don’t deserve anything, least of all your friendship. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m lucky to have had your friendship for the past six thousand years, it’s okay that it has to end for you to return. I’m just so sorry that I have to personally wound you enough to drive you away in order for it to work.

He covered his face with his hand as a sob escaped him. He looked back at the camera.

“I don’t regret a single moment we had, and I hope you will soon be able to live your angelic life to the fullest. Goodbye Aziraphale. I love you Angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there!


	7. Chapter 7

The recording stopped, and the TV shut off. They continued staring at the black screen as silence stretched between them. Aziraphale slowly turned. Crowley was so still, he might have been a sculpture were it not for the tears that flowed continuously down his face.

“Crowley is this true?”

Crowley seemed to deflate. He hunched forward and nodded his head before burying his face in his hands and shaking with silent sobs.

“Oh, my dearest.” Aziraphale abandoned the book and moved down the couch and pulled Crowley into his arms. Crowley clutched at Aziraphale desperately heaving and trying to stop the tears springing from his eyes.

“Crowley, love. Thank you for your sacrifice.”

“What sacrifice?! I hurt you! I made you believe that you were worthless and ran to another country for almost sixty years now to get away from you! And now that you know the truth they won’t let you go back so it was all for nothing!”

“Crowley look at me.” He cupped Crowley’s face, “It’s clear that you have been suffering just as much as I have for all this time. But the thing is, I don’t want to go back if it means I can’t have you. I love you Crowley. I have always loved you. I love you above all else, above sunshine, and picnics, and puppies and Heaven itself if they actually think that is an appropriate expectation from you. And I’ll accept whatever consequence it brings if it means I can have you.”

“No Angel. You deserve God’s light. I’m not worth it.”

“That’s complete nonsense. I feel exactly the same as before. The only difference is I don’t report to anyone to explain my actions. But without you, it’s like living without breathing. I won’t die if I don’t breathe, but the all too human feeling of suffocation plagues me every second of very day and the only relief is you. I say you deserve happiness just as much as I do. And I will go through anyone on earth or any other plane of existence to make sure you get it.”

Aziraphale slowly lifted Crowley’s hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles. Crowley let out an involuntary gasp and leaned forward until he was pressed into Aziraphale’s embrace and tucked his head in the crook of his neck.

“You’d choose me over Heaven?”

“Every time.”

_He really does love me._

“I love you Aziraphale.” His voice was wobbly and muffled, but Aziraphale only held him tighter.

“I love you too.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You are quite forgiven. I’m sorry for what you went through as well.”

“Oh, it doesn’t seem so bad now.”

“Are… are you going to come back to London now? Please?”

“I still have school to teach.” He glanced up at Aziraphale’s crestfallen expression.

_To hell with that, I’ve been long enough away from you._

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak Aziraphale said,

“Then if it’s alright with you, I’ll stay in the states for a bit.”

Crowley gave a small smile, “I’d like that.” He pressed a kiss to his Angel’s neck.

They stayed like that until a thought occurred to Aziraphale,

“How’d you get that video to play on a telly with no electricity?”

Crowley pulled back, “I didn’t. I chucked my phone with that recording on it out the window sixty years ago. I never wanted you to see it. I have no idea how it started playing on my telly.”

A slow smile spread across Aziraphale’s face, “It’s like _The Alchemist_.”

“What?”

“You know, ‘When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it’. We’ve wanted each other for practically forever. The universe has broken all the rules by this point; holy water and hellfire mean nothing to us now, but what for? For us to find each other again and again.”

“You think She’s chosen _now_ of all times to step in?”

“Not necessarily, but I think that we’ve wanted each other so much that it was impossible to ignore. I mean we didn’t even make it six decades separated. The strength of our wills was so strong that the universe and everything in it had to do something in response. So, while Heaven and Hell don’t necessarily care about us, they might as well go along with it because it’s easier than trying to go against us.”

Crowley held Aziraphale’s hands and quoted the novel back at him, “‘So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you’.”

“Precisely.”

There was a faint buzzing noise and the lights and TV switched back on. They looked at the TV and saw a reporter standing in front of Bryant Park. They both winced at the amount of damage reported and the loss of priceless artifacts which were gone forever. Crowley looked over,

“I’m sorry for what they did.”

Aziraphale nodded sadly, “It’s a shame. But at least there were no people injured, just things.”

“I supposed your're right, Angel. They can rebuild and move on with what they still have. Humans are very resilient that way.”

Aziraphale found Crowley’s hand and entwined their fingers,

“Would you like to go out for lunch with me?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow, “What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard? It’s the first day of the rest of eternity with someone I love dearly.”

Crowley couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, “What a lucky fellow.”

Aziraphale beamed, “Smart too. He’s got a doctorate. And he’s the nicest guy.”

“I am not nice!”

“Oh of course not my dear.”

Crowley stood and made an exaggerated eye roll, “By Beelzebub, it’s just like old times.”

“Precisely.” Aziraphale stood as well.

_Back to brunches and bookshops and… something else that started with a B…_

He paused and frowned trying to remember.

“Crowley, are you quite alright?

“I’m getting this funny feeling I’ve forgotten something. Something pretty important.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. It’s on the tip of my tongue. B… B- something…” He pouted.

“Bees? Like honey?”

“No. The letter. It has something to do with the letter B.”

“Well I’m sure it will come back to you eventually.”

“Hopefully. If the universe is kind enough to do that for me too.”

He gazed blankly around the room until his focus was drawn to the television. It had just started a new segment with a news anchor reporting from the Kennedy Space Center.

She smiled at the camera, “Today, NASA will land its first exploratory expedition to the ice dwarf Pluto. This marks a major milestone in-”

Crowley whirled and stared wide eyed at Aziraphale, “Pluto! How did I not even think about Pluto all this time?!

“Um Crowley, now I’m actually quite certain Pluto starts with a P…”

“No no no! Oh Satan! My Bentley! My stuff! I left them all on Pluto!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read, gave kudos, and/or left comments!


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